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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646205">One Day More</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_wexler/pseuds/turtle_wexler'>turtle_wexler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Co-workers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Time Loop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:54:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_wexler/pseuds/turtle_wexler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Severus do not, in fact, wish it could be Christmas every day. After repeating the same Christmas over and over (they lost count somewhere around the 200th one), they have had quite enough of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hearts and Cauldrons - Daily Prompts!, Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Members</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Day More</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbidmuch/gifts">Morbidmuch</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompts:  “It's 8.30, I have a hangover and you're annoying me," and <a href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/f56bbea8397e589505a35ea159c42842/80b79c9a65f70ffc-43/s540x810/f57578a4030ca8130d151957d02237db9f48f5a7.jpg">this picture</a></p>
<p>💗</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They lost count somewhere around the 200th Christmas. All of the mince pies, Christmas crackers, and festive music blended into one giant stream of forced frivolity. On this particular Christmas—maybe the 397th or 398th—Hermione sat across from Severus in the Hogwarts library, ignoring the rumbling of her stomach in favour of combing through books for a shred of hope. It was how they spent most mornings.</p>
<p>“I used to like Christmas,” she said, closing her sore eyes. </p>
<p>The print of <em>Impossibly Advanced Charms</em> was minuscule. If they ever escaped this Yuletide Hell, she was going to hunt down the person who thought 2-point font was a good idea. Right after she dealt with Hagrid—the one responsible for the bloody hourglass. He’d found it in some long-forgotten storeroom and thought it looked pretty. </p>
<p>Dumbledore had probably stashed it there. Who else would think a dangerous, time controlling object belonged in a school?</p>
<p>Severus groaned. “Must you speak so loudly? It’s 8:30, I have a hangover, and you’re annoying me.”</p>
<p>“You always have a hangover. Just go brew the bloody potion.”</p>
<p>“It takes two hours, as you well know. I’ll power through for today.”</p>
<p>“Meanwhile, I have to tolerate your bad mood.”</p>
<p>“Consider it your punishment for breaking the hourglass.” He scowled at the book in front of him as if it was a misbehaving first year. “If we don’t make progress soon, I may start treating my hangover with hair of the dog and spend eternity drunk.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s one option. Maybe I’ll join you. Ooh, how much ice cream and chocolate do you think the elves have in the kitchens?”</p>
<p>“The kitchens? Don’t be ridiculous. We will raid Septima’s stash of chocolate. Far better quality.” </p>
<p>After sharing a brief almost-laugh, they got back to work. Moping about their situation wouldn’t help, and for all his talk, Hermione knew Severus would keep trying. He wouldn’t numb himself and try to forget their predicament. Which, she maintained, was <em>not</em> her fault. </p>
<p>That first Christmas, Hermione and Severus had been standing next to one of the trees in the Great Hall, eating mince pies and talking about the gifts they’d received in the staff Secret Santa. Not that either of their gifts had been a surprise. During Hermione’s third year of teaching, they’d drawn each other’s names and discovered that they vastly preferred getting a carefully chosen book over a generic bottle of Firewhisky or yet another set of violently perfumed soaps and lotions. They had cheated during every subsequent Secret Santa name draw.</p>
<p>Over the past few years of working together, the two of them had developed some traditions. Drinks at the Burrow on Christmas Eve, dinner in the Great Hall on Christmas Day, cheese and biscuits and Christmas specials on TV at Hermione’s house on Boxing Day. </p>
<p>Everything had changed because of a clump of enchanted mistletoe. When it had floated their way, Hermione had taken a hasty step back, thinking Severus would refuse to kiss her. Her elbow had collided with an ornament on the tree: an hourglass full of blue sand. After it had crashed to the floor, they had found themselves back in their beds on Christmas morning. On all subsequent days, the ornament always broke exactly at half past eight—even if they weren’t in the Great Hall. If they stood and watched it, the glass shattered on its own before their eyes. </p>
<p>There hadn’t been any more Boxing Days. No more <em>anything</em> except Christmas after Christmas after Christmas. God, what Hermione wouldn’t give to be in her cosy living room with a gigantic cheese board and the <em>Miranda</em> holiday special. But no. They couldn’t even leave the grounds. If they tried, they blacked out and woke up to yet another Christmas Day.</p>
<p>It would be worth the humiliation of a refused kiss. It wasn’t as if Severus didn’t already know about her hopeless crush. She was so obvious. Always finding excuses to talk to him, sitting next to him during every meal, turning into a blushing mess when he complimented her spellwork. Sighing, she shut <em>Impossibly Advanced Charms</em> and picked up the next book from her stack. </p>
<p>“I hope,” Irma said from over Hermione’s shoulder, as she always did, “that you intend to reshelve those properly.” </p>
<p>“Of course,” Hermione said.</p>
<p>She had no intention of doing any such thing. At first, they’d tried to tell people about the time loop, but no one ever remembered. Hermione and Severus—the only two to see the hourglass break—remained alone in their knowledge once time reset itself again.</p>
<p>“I think we need a day off,” Hermione said after Irma was out of earshot. “On the next repeat, let’s brew your hangover potion first thing and then do something else with the rest of the day. Brains need rest now and then. Allegedly.”</p>
<p>Severus quirked an eyebrow. “I find that difficult to believe.”</p>
<p>“Me too, but when I was doing my Mastery, Ginny and Luna once teamed up and forced me to take a break for a day. I felt less homicidal after, so perhaps there’s something to it. Worth an experiment, anyway.”</p>
<p>“Hmm. Very well.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Severus’s head started to clear as they passed the first snow-dusted trees of the Forbidden Forest. He breathed in crisp, evergreen scented air that didn’t make his stomach turn. Ah. Relief. </p>
<p>If Sybill was any sort of Seer, she would have warned him against accepting so many drinks from Arthur on Christmas Eve. Or she would have told him to have some hangover remedy on hand, come Christmas morning. Or, even better, she would have advised him to keep his distance from Hermione in the Great Hall. If the threat of kissing Severus had never materialised, Hermione would never have needed to leap back so dramatically.</p>
<p>“Better?” Hermione asked.</p>
<p>He nodded. “Almost tolerable.”</p>
<p>Their hands occasionally brushed as they trudged through the snow, her knuckles against his drawing all of his attention to those tiny points of contact. That was the only reason he didn’t see it coming. He really should have, considering the company she usually kept—apart from himself, at any rate. Bending down, Hermione scooped up a handful of snow, packed it into a loose ball, and chucked it at his shoulder.</p>
<p>Severus did not fire back. That would be undignified. He did, however, shake a nearby tree with a spell, sending a cascade of snow showering over her. Hermione giggled.</p>
<p>“Worth it,” she said, dusting the snow from her knit hat. “If we ever get out of this, I’m going to tell George that I threw a snowball at Professor Snape. He’ll be so proud.”</p>
<p>Severus snorted. “He can do you one better, I am afraid. He once hit the Dark Lord in the face with several enchanted snowballs.”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>.” Her jaw dropped open, delight shining in her brown eyes. “Are you serious?”</p>
<p>“Very. It was when the Dark Lord resided under Quirrell’s turban. Quirinus complained about the snowballs at length in the staffroom. It wasn’t until after all was revealed that I realised what had happened. I awarded five points to Gryffindor.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god.” Leaning against him for support, she laughed. “That story is the best Christmas present you could have ever given me.”</p>
<p>She was smiling and rosy-cheeked and lovely and there was a clump of mistletoe in that oak tree. Severus stared at her mouth. </p>
<p>Time slowed, as it always did when she was so close. No mystical, interfering hourglasses necessary. It was Hermione’s gravity that did that—the pull she’d had on him for years now that almost made him forget he was too old, too bitter, too ugly to be anything but her friend.</p>
<p>She tilted her face up, almost like an invitation. Almost like she wouldn’t back away if he leaned closer, touched his lips to hers.</p>
<p>Severus cleared his throat. “We should head back to the castle.”</p>
<p>Hermione’s shoulders sagged, her lips turning down at the corners. “Yes. I suppose so.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“We need to think outside the box,” Hermione said, pushing her stack of books away in disgust.</p>
<p>Another day, another Christmas, another morning spent fruitlessly scouring the library.</p>
<p>“Don’t strain yourself,” Severus said. “Trying too hard to find a creative solution can lead to things like transfiguring your head into that of a shark instead of using a simple Bubble Head Charm.”</p>
<p>Something about the way Severus said Bubble Head Charm made it all click into place. Hermione gasped.</p>
<p>“What if we use a Bubble Head Charm?” she asked. “I mean, not on anyone’s head, but on the hourglass. We could modify it so time is frozen within the bubble. If the hourglass never reaches half past eight, it never breaks.”</p>
<p>Severus paused partway through turning a page. “It isn’t a <em>terrible </em>idea.”</p>
<p>“It’s a brilliant idea. Oh, where is that book on time magic? The one we found after the first few loops that has that spell for sending an object back in time by a few seconds. If we could modify that spell to repeat itself every few seconds within the bubble…”</p>
<p>She could see the wheels turning in his head, arithmantic formulas itching to be scribbled onto parchment.</p>
<p>“It could work,” he said.</p>
<p>It had to work. </p>
<hr/>
<p>One of the hardest parts of solving their little temporal problem was the fact that all of their work was erased at the end of every day. Hermione and Severus spent the final hour of the next few loops memorising their notes.</p>
<p>“Bet you’re glad I’m so good at regurgitating textbooks now,” she said.</p>
<p>“If I am, I will never admit it.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay. I can see it in your eyes.”</p>
<p>He laughed.</p>
<p>Finally, after nine more Christmases, they were ready to test out their new method. They took the hourglass to Severus’s quarters early in the evening.</p>
<p>“We could very well make things worse,” he said.</p>
<p>“No,” she said, even as her heart tried to lodge itself in her throat. “The arithmancy is solid. I know I did the calculations correctly, and you have created so many spells before. I believe in you. In us. Let’s do this.”</p>
<p>They cast the spells in unison: Severus controlling the temporal element, Hermione conjuring the bubble that would encase it. As the light from their combined magic faded, she caught her lower lip between her teeth.</p>
<p>“That is promising,” Severus said. “Nothing has exploded.”</p>
<p>“Yet.”</p>
<p>The clock on his wall ticked over to half past eight. Nothing happened. Grabbing Severus’s hand, Hermione held her breath until a full minute had passed.</p>
<p>Without thinking, she leapt at him and caught him in a tight hug. His posture went rigid, but after a moment—just as she started to retreat—he returned the embrace. </p>
<p>“We did it,” she whispered, squeezing him tighter.</p>
<p>Severus squeezed her back. “So it would seem.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I’m surprised you still wanted to do this,” Hermione said.</p>
<p>They were settling in to catch up on the Christmas specials. The coffee table was heaped with cheese, biscuits, and chocolate for later. Boxing Day had finally arrived. The hourglass was safely in the Department of Mysteries, presumably being studied by Unspeakables in the Time Chamber. </p>
<p>“I did consider suggesting we watch films set during summer,” Severus said. “I’ve had more than enough of Christmas for several lifetimes.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” She let out a weak laugh. “And to think, it all could have been avoided if only I’d been brave and faced you refusing to kiss me under the mistletoe.” </p>
<p>Severus gave her a strange, intense stare. It reminded her of the way he’d looked at her in the Forbidden Forest, just before he’d suggested going back to the castle. The way his gaze narrowed in on her mouth made her pulse speed up, her breathing hitch. It was almost as if— </p>
<p>“I would not have refused,” he said, barely audible.</p>
<p>Hermione’s stomach flipped. She could be brave this time. Casting Orchideous, she conjured a floating ball of mistletoe and directed it to hover in the air above their heads. </p>
<p>“Can you stomach one more Christmas tradition?” she asked.</p>
<p>That intense stare did not move from her mouth. “If you wish.”</p>
<p>Oh, she wished. She had been <em>wishing</em> for ages. Cupping his face in her hands, she moved closer and did what she should have done over 400 Christmases ago: she kissed him.</p>
<p>He kissed her back.</p>
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